


The Horizon

by Lenny9987



Series: Gaps in Canon [8]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Book 2: Dragonfly in Amber, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 04:17:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5770996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenny9987/pseuds/Lenny9987
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my Gaps in Canon series. Set during Dragonfly in Amber.</p>
<p>The morning of the battle of Culloden finds Murtagh watching the horizon and waiting for Jamie to return from Craigh na Dun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted fic from Tumblr.
> 
> "londonerbecky said: Fab writing. Would love some fic from a Murtagh POV. Often I wonder what he would think at the end of DIA or during Outlander…"

The Lallybroch men milled around waiting for their orders. Other remnants of companies were scattered and listless, waiting for the inevitable but Murtagh’s manner had instilled something slightly different in the Lallybroch men. They had been summoned for something else but none had seen their Laird or his lady for hours - not since sometime the day before. 

Murtagh - having gathered the men to a conveniently discreet location just near a low ridge - stood sharpening his dirk while his eyes flicked the horizon to his front and to the rear right. To the front, the English had gathered in numbers large enough there was no need to hide. To the rear right, he searched for any sign of movement that might indicate the lad’s return - the longer he went without seeing him, the greater his hope that perhaps the lad had been able to go with her, that they would both be spared. 

He took the whetstone and drew it slowly across the long, broad blade of his dirk, relishing the grating sound they made. He knew better than to hope but couldn’t help it where Jamie was concerned. Much as he would miss the lad, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to spare him what lay ahead. 

The sun was still rising in the sky when Murtagh’s heart sunk to his knees. The flash of sun off Jamie’s hair was unmistakeable as he trudged closer. 

Slipping the dirk into its scabbard next to his sporran, Murtagh shuffled from his vantage point on the ridge to meet Jamie on his climb up towards his men. Murtagh heard them whispering behind him but waved them off with a grunt. They could wait a bit longer and needn’t see their Laird in such a state.

And what a state it was. As he drew closer Murtagh could see blood smeared across his face and bruises darkening his cheeks. There was something wrong with his nose - it had been broken and was swollen across the bridge. More than the surface wounds, however, Jamie looked as though he’d aged twenty years in a day. His eyes were swollen and red from more than just whatever beating he’d managed to find on his way back from those accursed stones. 

When Jamie spotted Murtagh he stopped and waited for his godfather to meet him, unable in that moment to walk any further under the burden he carried. A tear slid through the blood drying on his face leaving a clean trail in its wake. 

“It’s done then, lad?” Murtagh spoke since Jamie could not. 

Jamie nodded, tensions starting in his jaw and traveling through the muscles of his throat to his arms, ending in his tightly clenched fists. 

“Ye’ve done all ye can do, then. Ye’ve done right by _her_  and ye’ll go forth today _knowing_ she’s safe,” Murtagh assured Jamie.

“If only I could for sure,” Jamie murmured before straightening and shaking his head clear. “Have ye got water?”

“Ye’ll do better wi’ a dram o’ whisky,” Murtagh scoffed. “Though neither are easily found this morn.”

“Whisky would be welcome but I was wanting to wash my face. Dinna want to be addressing the men wi’out cleaning up a bit,” Jamie explained. 

Murtagh shuffled off to find something that would work and soon most of the blood had been wiped away though whether or not that was an improvement was a matter for debate. Jamie inquired after the positions that had been settled on both sides during the night. 

“Who’s nearest us? D’ye think it safe to start sending the men off in twos and threes?” Jamie inquired. 

“Aye, so long as they can be quiet about it. Where it’s their own necks on the line, I suppose they’ll be careful enough,” Murtagh said with a nod.

“Ye should go wi’ ‘em,” Jamie advised. “Make sure they get back safe. And ye can tell Jenny and Ian about… well… I’d like to think they’ll hear it from you.”

Murtagh was shaking his head before Jamie could finish. “No. Absolutely not.”

“I thought I was yer Laird,” Jamie prompted. 

“Ye are but the oath I swore was te yer mother and if yer aim is te die on that field today, it’ll be after me, not afore,” Murtagh said with stubborn determination. 

Jamie knew better than to argue and Murtagh knew the lad no longer had the heart for it - it was a feeling he knew all too well though, admittedly, for very different reasons. 


End file.
